


Welcome to the Pack

by Anonymous



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Pack Initiation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 07:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4382702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, the secret is out: Chris and Peter are together. They've told Allison and the pack; everyone knows; they're even Facebook official. There's just one more little detail...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to the Pack

Peter smirks. He probably shouldn't, but it's irresistible. "Alpha, may I present my mate to you?" 

Derek looks skeptically from Peter to Chris as they stand hand in hand before him, his dark eyebrows drawn together in a frown far too reminiscent of Peter's sister and their mother before her. That measuring gaze that waited and doubted. Peter never did like that look.

"Him?" Derek finally says, his voice flat and unimpressed. He tilts his gaze back at Peter. "Your mate. Really, Peter?"

Peter grins and spreads his hands. "The heart hath its reasons." In this, at least, he is nothing but honest. It's all he can do to not snigger at the twin narrow eyed looks that Derek and Chris level at him.

Chris looks grim. Grimmer than usual, that is, it's not as though he's all smiles at the best of times. Where Peter sees a game, a challenge to throw himself into, Chris sees real danger. It's one of the reasons that they should never ever work -- and yet, somehow do. It's not as though Peter makes much effort to change. That look tightens Chris' jaw, narrows his eyes, making the cold blue stand out against the tan, makes him look dangerous in a way that Peter has always found hotter than is wise. Wisdom is not nearly so much fun as taking a chance -- or ten. 

Derek looks like he can smell what Peter's thinking.

Oh well. It's not like it's a surprise to Derek.

Derek rubs a hand over his face, sighs, and turns to meet Chris' eyes. "Argent."

"Hale," is all Chris says. Peter's reasonably sure Chris and Derek are only being cautious because he's involved. A different man might be jealous, but he just ... enjoys the game.

Chris inclines his head slightly, stiffly, to Derek. Another Alpha might take that as the closest he's going to get to a proper submission. It isn't as good as it could be but isn't terrible. No one has, for example, produced weapons, taking an example chosen entirely at random. Yet. And somehow, Derek does not look like he's convinced. Peter can't imagine how that might be. Oh, no, wait.

"You want the full formal introduction?" Peter asks, still more amused than not at the pair of them. 

"Let's go with that, yes," Derek says, and although he sounds mild enough, his eyes stay on Chris.

"Alpha." he nods and clears his throat. "Derek, this is Chris Argent. My chosen mate." While Derek's eyes are still green, and not flaring with the irritated red that is burning just behind them, he turns. "Chris, this is Derek Hale, my Alpha, of blood and bone," he says brightly, with his head cocked slightly, he can't help it; it bares his throat just a little, but to his mate, right in front of his Alpha. It's just a hint of submission perverted, enough to send a shiver through him, conscious of danger tempted. 

"And now everyone's introduced, Alpha, I humbly request that you welcome my mate--" He leans into the traditional phrase, holds Derek's eyes steadily, "--as *his* Alpha." He'd meant to say it as a joke, to cajole and demand that Derek accept Chris as a part of Peter's life, if not part of the Hale pack. He thought it would be amusing to imply that he wanted Derek to welcome Chris in the old way, and then bargain down to what he really wanted. But it's not.

It's not funny at all. 

Derek's eyes darken, pupils widening, and his breath quickens. 

The air feels close and heavy, a summer storm building in the still house. Peter can smell it, the heat of his Alpha's blood as it rises. Peter swallows at his Alpha's slow, dark smile as he looks Chris over, eyes burning & red. He can hear the stutter of Chris' heart as his pulse picks up, and can smell the rich musk of his sweat rising warm and eager from his skin. It's too late to take it back, recant, rephrase; Peter's started this and it's too late to do anything but give in to the will of his Alpha, and the will of his mate.

"Of course, Peter. If that is the wish of you both." Derek tilts his head inquiringly at Chris. Despite the claustrophobic stench of arousal coming off all three of them there is no urgency or compulsion in his words. Just a simple question. Derek makes no sign of the hunger that Peter can almost taste on the air. This could be an end of it. Chris could say no, could ask to reserve some part of Peter and himself for themselves. It's not even uncommon. Times have changed.

He had at least warned Chris, even if he'd laughed as he did so, sure Derek would never call his bluff. It's not the first time he's guessed wrong about Derek when the stakes are high. At least no one's dead. Yet. 

Chris's hand is sweating in his but he doesn't dare look at him. 

"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't," Chris says tersely. They step forward together.

"Alpha?" Peter says. He drops his eyes, not even sure what answer he's wanting. A second later, Chris echoes him, uncomfortable but steady. It would be worth it. He hadn't truly expected Derek to even know what he was asking for, much less reciprocate -- Peter could kick himself; the boy had always had his nose in a book, reading about mythologies and traditions from the mustiest, most obscure corners of the library. Of course he even knows the proper words for the damn ritual. 

"Peter--" Derek pauses. There's a low rumble in Derek's throat as he pauses, and Peter shivers. Derek cups a gentle hand under his chin and lifts his face until their eyes meet. "You don't have to."

"Yes, I do." The answer comes from Chris, and Peter startles. When he looks, Chris' face is implacable, but then his eyes turn towards Peter and soften. "If we're to be mates then I'm going to need all the official protection I can get," he says, a little ruefully.

Derek nods once. "Not untrue." He takes a deep breath, lifts his chin, and Peter knows his decision before he speaks. "Peter. Clothes."

Peter's hands are shaking slightly. He strips Chris naked, swiftly and efficiently. The Alpha could just rip his clothes off. This is ... this is strange, but better.

Derek gestures a small circle, Peter stares at his hand, bemused. Chris gets it before Peter does, turns on the spot, slow and graceful, naked, unfazed, and why not, Peter thinks, Chris might be pushing fifty but he has nothing to be ashamed of.

"Unmarked. Huh. You've actually surprised me, Peter," Derek says. He stands and rests both hands on Chris' shoulders. "Will you let me in?"

Chris nods, not meeting the Alpha's eyes. Derek frowns, and leans in, brushes his lips over Chris'. "Will you--" He presses another kiss where Peter only this morning had gently nibbled, "--let me in?"

"Yes," Chris breathes out and Derek is on him. One arm a solid bar across Chris' back and the other gripping at his short hair, and the two are kissing hard. 

Peter can't tear his eyes away.

Chris just -- melts, molding himself to Derek's fully clothed body and it might actually be the hottest thing that Peter has seen in his life, although he does have to exclude some of his more imaginative daydreams from the competition, but that's only fair, he thinks distantly. Not even his daydreams had imagined seeing this for real. Derek drags Chris in close, pushes in and Chris' head falls back, neck bared. 

Peter can't help the snarl that he makes: *his* mate, *his*. Derek glances up, smirks. His red eyes hold Peter's gaze while he slowly sinks still human teeth hard into the curve between Chris' neck and shoulder. Chris grunts in pain, and in the same instant gasps out, "Peter, no," anticipating Peter's instinctive lunge towards them.

Derek lifts his mouth, the smirk hasn't faded from his lips, and his eyes are steady, compelling as he murmurs, "Mine. Both mine. Now, come *here*." He sets his teeth back into the already reddening teethmarks, and Peter stumbles towards them. Derek drags in a deep breath, nostrils flaring and Peter stumbles closer still, pulled in on the barest breath until he's plastered against Chris' bare back. The smell of Alpha mixed with aroused mate is too much. His dick hardens from the half chub he'd already had from seeing Chris naked and vulnerable to fully hard and he drops his face into Chris' other shoulder, breathes deep, unconsciously mimicking his alpha, and groans deep in his throat. 

Peter wraps his arms around Chris from behind, shoving mindlessly against those tight buttocks. He loves the feel of Chris against him, warm and solid, iron strength bound up in whip slender flesh and bone. They don't go this way much, and it's not going to happen tonight, but he relishes the moment, rocking into him eagerly until Derek's hand hard on his jaw stops him, pulls his face up from Chris' nape and into a hard kiss from his nephew, his Alpha. But the solid strength of his warm back gets Peter every time.

He looks up, pulling his face out of the hard familiarity of Chris' neck, and straight into Derek's eyes. For a moment, those eyes seem to flicker, he falls into their depths, seeing all at once all he ever knew of his nephew.

At the same moment Derek is the newborn he'd peeked in on, hours old, holding his breath to not wake the sleeping cub, enchanted by the bird-fast beat of his little heart, and he is his forbidden Alpha, one of the hottest men he has ever known. And then they are too close, and Peter closes his eyes. Derek's beard is rough on his skin; Peter smiles into the kiss, doesn't even try to take control of it, just rolls his hips into Chris' ass, tilts his head back for Derek to mark him too. These marks will last. 

Derek's teeth set into his skin and he gasps, jolts, spills. He didn't even realise he was so close to the edge. A moment later he's moaning into his Alpha's mouth, moving his hips mindlessly and Derek laughs, softly, kindly, a hand gentling over his hair, sliding down his body to the small of his back, and lower.

"Clothes, Peter," he murmurs, and Peter yanks his v-neck over his head, shoves his pants and briefs hard enough that they just tumble away, and Derek's hands are back on his ass, gripping his bare skin hard, dragging both of them into a ruthless rhythm. He can smell Chris's semen, the bleachy burst so vivid to his sense of smell that he would need only that to know that the pressure of mate and Alpha have brought him off between them, even if the sharp jerks of Chris' hips and the long, low moan didn't give away his climax.

Peter is breathing hard into Chris' back, his forehead pressed into the nape of Chris' neck. They are breathing in sync, chests heaving. Chris turns in his arms, sliding slick and hot in his grip, their mouths meeting fiercely. He drops a hand to Chris' belly and swipes it through the mess there, licks it. He tastes only Chris there, and is almost disappointed.

Chris freezes. "Oh!" he whimpers, and rolls his hips forwards into Peter. "Uh, oh, oh god--" He drops his face into Peter's neck, right over the welting bite of their Alpha, burying the helpless little sounds of pleasure as Derek fingers him open with his own cum. Peter can't help it, he pulls Chris in tighter to him, and wraps a hand around his neck, pulling until he can see over Chris' slumped shoulder.

Derek flashes a grin at him. He's still fully dressed, his shirt spattered and stained, and his jeans hanging open, cock swollen but still held behind denim. Derek is going commando, which fries Peter's mind entirely for a long moment, and then he's pulling out his cock, stroking himself with breathy little sighs of pleasure.

"You ready?" he murmurs into Chris' ear, and Chris just groans, pushes back with his ass, tilting it up, presenting like he's been trained to it, and Peter's *got* to stop thinking these things because his brain is going to melt and he won't remember any of it.

"Wanna check?" Derek asks Peter, and while Peter is still parsing the offer, his wrist is wrapped in Derek's hand and then his fingers are being pressed to Chris' asshole, and it's slippery and open, not loose exactly, the muscle is warm and strong and his fingers slide in deep alongside Derek's and he whines into Chris' throat as Chris cries out at the stretch.

"Ready, he's yes, please, ready, Alpha, please--" he babbles, and Chris turns his face just enough to gasp out, "Yes, please. Alpha--"

He loses his words into a wail as Derek replaces fingers with cock in one smooth slide. Peter comes again feeling it slide past his fingers, watching the thick red shaft plunge deep into his mate's hole. Derek pulls out slowly, letting Chris feel every last inch.

"Does it feel good?" Derek asks quietly. His hips snap forwards, Chris yelps, and the sounds transmutes again into a long groan as Derek pulls out slowly, rocking the tip of his cock, the widest part, back and forth through Chris' stretched ring. Chris has no words, just fractured pleas that tumble out of his mouth, rising to a yell as Derek finally picks up the pace, ramming home, pulling out until just the wide glans is tugging at his hole from the inside and back again, over and over.

Peter and Chris are both fully hard again, but neither of them cares, the only thing is Derek, his arms wound tight around them both, his cock ploughing into them, his teeth in their shoulder -- Peter chokes, gulps for air. He can feel the phantom clench of Derek's teeth in his neck, illusory blood trickling down his skin, and he moans, "Der, Derek, I-- what is--"

Derek leans back from Chris' neck and smirks, teeth bloody. "You're mates, Peter. This is how mates feel the Pack bond. Don't tell me you didn't know?" He snaps his hips forward viciously hard and Chris yells -- but Peter yells too, abruptly feeling as though he too is filled and fucked, unopened and gaping. "You're going to feel every part of this. Two folded into one doesn't mean one *pack*, Peter."

Chris sobs and comes again, taking Peter with him. Chris reaches behind himself to Derek, leaning into the strong body. Derek slows down, moving easily, steadily. "Do you feel that, Peter," Derek whispers, and Peter arches his back, whining, because he does, it's a touchless touch and it's amazing and not enough, and Derek laughs again. "Chris, give your mate what he needs."

Chris doesn't respond quickly; he shakes his head a couple of times, before pushing Peter away a little, turning him around, and then pulling him back. Chris is still hard, his cock pressed against Peter's crack, seeping cum onto the small of his back.

"Are --" Chris' voice catches, throat dry, and he swallows audibly, clears his throat, "are you prepped?"

Peter chuckles, "Always," he says, as he always does, and Chris pats him clumsily on his belly. 

"Good boy." Chris doesn't give him any more warning, but Peter hadn't really expected any, and bites his lip till it bleeds rather than give in to the burning pain of being opened with Chris' cock. It doesn't hurt for long, the tears and stretched muscles healing into their new shapes in seconds. He wonders if it would be different if it had been Derek's cock sliding up into him, would he keep the burn and he clenches hard on Chris, groaning at the feel of the long thick shaft lodged deep in his ass.

He's going to have to find out; Chris talks about being able to feel it for days, and he *wants* that, and now he's thought of a way to get it. All it requires is a little manoeuvreing. And in the meantime, he's just going to have to settle for his mate in his ass, and his Alpha holding his dick, strippping him hard. It's no hardship at all.

He stares at Derek's hand wrapped around his fat prick and shudders, comes like a teenager. He doesn't even know how many this makes, doesn't care, losing the sneaking sense of smug triumph in the need to be filled, fulfilled, made whole. 

Chris doesn't stop moving until Derek murmurs, "My turn," into Chris's ear. 

Peter whimpers as Chris leaves him empty, turns him around, and he;s being lowered onto Derek's lap, getting his wish, no maneuvering required at all except to let it happen, be lowered down, filled and widened and held. Derek is thicker and longer than Chris, and Peter can feel every fat inch of it. The burn isn't so bad this time, already opened as he is, but he's gasping for air, lost in the stink of Derek's arousal and the more familiar smells of himself and Chris. Derek pulls Peter back, guiding him down firmly and then lifting him up. "Ride," he orders, and a moment later, "You may use his mouth, Christopher."

Chris steps in instantly, lifting his soft prick to Peter's lips. He takes in the whole thing, cradling the soft, musky flesh carefully. The skin feels so thin and fragile, he knows it isn't, but he suckles tenderly, gently rolling the swelling cock with his tongue, and as it lengthened, he gripped Chris' hips, guided him into a rhythm -- he gives a fleeting thought to cultivating the kind of multitasking skills that would let him ride a dick and bob his head, but he can't do it and the attempt makes him giggle, collapsing backwards into Derek's lap, laughing.

He can feel the look the two of them exchange -- can tell that given time he might one day be able to see through the mate bond, through Chris' eyes, but for now he opens his own eyes, smiles up at Chris, who shakes his head at him, smiling faintly. 

"No respect for traditions," Derek murmurs.

"I have lo-ots of respect for trad-oh, okay--itions." Talking while getting fucked is tricky.

Chris smirks, and pulls Peter forwards, "Perhaps he should just be quiet until he can do better," he suggests. Peter opens his mouth to retort and is promptly full of cock again. Acceptable. Chris holds his face, picks up speed, and there's a long confusing moment and Peter is bent over, feet on the ground, getting fucked hard at both ends.

He lets his hands reach further around, cupping then parting Chris' cheeks. His fingers slide inwards until they meet at Chris' loosened hole, slippery with Derek's cum. He wants that, and he brings a hand around, slides a finger into his own mouth alongside Chris' cock, tasting them both on his tongue. It knocks him off balance for a long moment. 

When he's thinking again he can feel the chill of sweat cooling on his back, the warmth of Derek's thighs between his own, still full and owned, and the wet heat of Chris' mouth back on his dick, sliding on and pulling away with hard suction. Peter's gasping for air, desperate and writhing, he can't imagine what it is, he's loose and orgasm fuzzy, filled and fucking, but there's something he still needs.

Chris stands and kisses him, tilting his face with familiar ease to the perfect angle, taking little tastes of his lips, nipping gently then biting his way down Peter's neck until his teeth are set over the imprint Derek left, and he bites hard enough to reopen the slowly healing mark. Peter yells, overwhelmed again, and feeling Chris' low moan as they share the sensation. 

Derek finally spills again, spurting hot jizz deep into Peter, and holds them both close, pressing little kisses into first Peter and then Chris' mouths. He tugs their heads to rest on his shoulders, and he presses a kiss into Peter's hair and then into Chris'.

"You are welcome."


End file.
